As Olivia pointed out on the long drive home from a weekend with cousins at the Jersey Shore, we’ve had three mini-vacations this summer, with the big one yet to come. A weekend trip to the Bronx Zoo two weeks ago, a weekend with Cousins in NYC last weekend, and a weekend at Grandpa and Grandma’s near Long Beach Island, N.J. The minivan is getting a workout. This week we’re hanging out at home for a change, but that doesn’t mean dull and boring. Unfortunately. Between work and Chiara’s Bible camp and her just-over horseback riding birthday party, I’m kind of longing for one day to just sit still and do nothing. Here’s how Manic Monday looks this week: Read more
“And everyone who listens to these words of mine but does not act on them will be like a fool who built his house on sand.” Matthew 7:26
The majestic Adirondack Mountains and the vast Atlantic Ocean are both easily reachable from my home, so this line from the Gospel and the fuller Gospel story (Matthew 7:21-29) elicit some powerful imagery for me. In an instant I am on the beach, where the shoreline constantly changes because of gentle winds or powerful storms. With the crash of even the smallest wave, sand gives way beneath your feet and you can lose your balance.
My “Soul Seeing” column, running in the current issue of the National Catholic Reporter:
If you look around my office prayer space or on my bedroom dresser, you’ll notice one constant: broken conch and whelk shells everywhere. Small and blue-gray, large and sun-bleached, twisting, turning, spiraling in that gorgeous and mysterious way that seashells do. Although I have one perfect channeled whelk shell that I purchased in Cape May, N.J., years ago, my prized possessions are broken shells of every shape and size because, as far as I’m concerned, they are far more beautiful than the ones that are perfectly intact and so lovely on the outside. Read more